One Night Stand With My Ex's Uncle-Chapter 161: The Heirs of My Heart

Anna’s POV

The bright lights of the operating room blurred above me as the anesthesia took effect. I heard the medical team’s voices echoing as if from a great distance, clinical and precise. The physical sensations were strangely detached-pressure without pain, movement without feeling.

"First baby coming out now," the surgeon announced. "It’s a boy!"

A thin cry pierced the haze of my consciousness. My son. The sound yanked me back from the edge of darkness where I’d been drifting, anchoring me to the present moment.

"He’s beautiful, Anna," Catherine whispered, her face appearing above mine. "Perfect. About 5.7 pounds."

Before I could respond, another flurry of activity from the surgical team.

"And here comes baby number two... it’s a girl!"

Her cry was softer than her brother’s, but just as determined. I felt hot tears streaming down my temples, soaking into my hair. Catherine squeezed my hand, her own eyes glistening.

’They’re both here," she said, voice thick with emotion. "They’re both healthy."

The medical staff worked efficiently, cleaning and examining the twins while finishing my surgery. Someone placed my son briefly on my chest—a warm, squirming bundle with a shock of blonde hair. Then my daughter, slightly smaller but with the same fierce grip when her tiny hand found my finger.

"Congratulations, Ms. Shaw," the chief surgeon said, her eyes crinkling above her mask. "Two beautiful babies."

After the babies were taken for their initial examinations, the question that had been burning inside me finally escaped.

"Is he really not dead?" My voice sounded foreign to my ears-small and broken, nothing like the confident Anna Shaw the world knew.

Catherine’s face appeared in my field of vision, her expression fierce.

"Definitely not dead!"

But the anxiety crushing my chest didn’t ease. "Really? Then why would Mary say that?"

I’d never felt this vulnerable-not during the worst days with Jack, not through any business crisis. My entire being felt raw, exposed, like a nerve ending left to the elements.

"Mary’s just crazy," Catherine replied, anger flashing in her eyes. "Don’t listen to her nonsense. I’ve been keeping tabs, and Dad sent people over there too. Uncle Marcus is just missing, he’s not dead."

She leaned closer, squeezing my hand.

"Anna, you have to believe in Uncle Marcus. He waited for you for so many years, finally got you to say yes how could he bear to die now?"

Her words kindled a tiny spark of hope in my chest.

"As for Mary," Catherine added, eyes narrowing, "we’ll deal with her after you leave the hospital."

- - -

By the time I was wheeled back to my private room, it was already crowded with visitors. William Murphy sat in an armchair by the window, looking every bit his age. Grandma Margaret was beside him, her prayer beads moving silently through her fingers.

Mom stood talking quietly with Phillip and Layla Murphy.

The room fell silent as I entered, all eyes turning to me with a mixture of joy and concern.

"Annie!" Mom rushed forward, her hands fluttering anxiously around me without quite touching. "How are you feeling, sweetheart?’

"Tired," I admitted. "But okay."

William pushed himself up from his chair, approaching with unsteady steps. "The babies are beautiful, Annie.

Absolutely beautiful."

"Grandpa William..." I shifted my gaze to his weathered face. "I want to know the real situation."

Even in my exhausted state, Marcus remained my first thought. The room grew uncomfortably quiet.

William sighed deeply, the lines on his face deepening. "Annie, it’s not that I don’t want to tell you. The truth is, we don’t know much about Marcus’s situation either. His business operations, his enemies—he never speaks of them."

Something cold settled in my stomach.

"Enemies?"

"Marcus rarely comes home, not because he doesn’t want to, but because he can’t," William continued, his voice heavy with regret. "He has many enemies. He’s afraid of bringing them back here, so he always appears to have a distant relationship with the Murphy family. There have always been rumors that he doesn’t get along with the family, even that he’s the abandoned son of the Murphys."

*He never told me any of this.* The realization hurt more than my surgical incision.

William’s gaze hardened with conviction. "I only believe one thing: he’s not dead."

A nurse entered with the twins, freshly examined and swaddled in hospital blankets. "Time for their first feeding, Ms. Shaw. Would you like to try breastfeeding or use formula?"

"Formula," I answered without hesitation. "I’ll be returning to work soon."

Layla’s eyebrows rose slightly, but she said nothing as the nurse helped me position the babies.

"Look at that hair," Phillip remarked, leaning over to examine my son.

"That’s all Murphy."

"But the eyes," Mom countered, "those are all Shaw. Elizabeth’s eyes."

"Have you decided on names for the children?" William asked, his voice gentle.

Mom glanced at me hesitantly. "We have, but if you have any good suggestions, Mr. Murphy..."

William waved his hand dismissively.

"None of that formality. Annie carried these babies and gave birth to them with such difficulty. The names should be chosen by her."

I took a deep breath, steeling myself.

’The boy is Benedict Shaw, the girl is Sophia Shaw. I have no other wishes except that they live happy lives."

Layla’s expression froze. "Both with the Shaw surname?"

The words seemed to suck all the oxygen from the hospital room. I cradled my newborns closer, my body tensing despite the dull throb of my C-section incision. The weight of the Murphy family’s gaze pressed down on me, heavier than the hospital blankets covering my legs.

I met Layla’s eyes directly, refusing to flinch. "Yes. Benedict Shaw and Sophia Shaw."

Catherine immediately shifted closer to my bedside, her presence a silent wall of support. "What’s wrong with them having the Shaw name?" she challenged, the edge in her voice unmistakable. "Anna carried and delivered these babies through tremendous difficulty. Of course they should take her name."

I shot her a grateful look before turning my attention to William. His face was a masterclass in controlled emotion-disappointment flickered beneath the surface, visible only in the slight tightening around his eyes.

The Shaw bloodline was fragile, hanging by the thinnest of threads.

Just me, Mom, and Grandma Margaret.

These twins weren’t just my children-they were the future of our family name, our legacy. 𝘧𝓇ℯ𝑒𝓌𝑒𝑏𝓃𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭.𝒸ℴ𝓂

William’s weathered hand came to rest on the edge of my bed. "Yes, Shaw is fine," he said, his voice gentle but carrying a note of resignation. "That’s perfectly fine."

Relief washed through me, though the tension in the room remained palpable. Layla shifted uncomfortably, clearly regretting her outburst when Catherine shot her a pointed look.

"Thank you for understanding, Grandpa William," I said softly, deliberately using the familial title to acknowledge his concession.